Page 27 of Confusing Cade
“I think she needs friends,” I insisted. “She seems lonely.”
“I didn’t think you were going to develop a crush on her.”
“It’s not a fucking crush. We’re not eight.”
My thoughts drifted to Bella more than once during dinner—not only to the superficial allure of her appearance, the way her skirt hugged her form, or how she seemed so vulnerable and open in my office, but to our genuine connection. It was rare for me to confide in anyone like that. My parents had shown me that long-term relationships were a place of misery. My last two relationships had been superficial at best; both women were more like accessories than partners, there to enhance my image but lacking the depth to engage with me.
But with Bella, there was something different. Not only had I been impressed with her dedication to her younger sister, but her youth didn't detract from having intuitive insight. In fact, it seemed to enhance it. She listened, really listened, when I talked about the pressures and expectations of my role, something I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
“This is business,” I said, the words sharp but hollow, like they were trying to convince me as much as David. My throat tightened, betraying the lie I wanted to believe. “Onlybusiness.”
David snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
“The final stages are all that matter right now. That’s where my head’s at.” But even as I said it, my mind slipped, unbidden, to the meeting earlier. I envisioned her laugh, the way Bella’s eyes lit up when she talked about the design, and the way her presence seemed to pull the air from the room. I shook my head, as if I could dislodge the thoughts. “Nothing’s going to distract me.”
David’s lips quirked, his voice low and teasing, but heavy with that annoying certainty. “Okay.”
I shifted in my seat, irritation prickling under my skin. I was uncomfortable with the truth he was poking at. “Bella Moretti’s a nice kid,” I said, using the wordkiddeliberately, a flimsy shieldto distance myself from her and whatever my feelings were starting to entail.
“She’s, what, twenty-five? Barely out of grad school.”
David’s comment landed like a stone, stirring ripples I didn’t want to face. My chest tightened, a mix of defiance and dread. I wanted to argue, to insist it was nothing, but her face flickered in my mind again. No, it wasn’t just business. Not anymore. And David, damn him.He knows it.
“We have absolutely nothing in common,” I tried. “No, this is about PR, and that’s all.”
I was attempting to draw a line, but even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were hollow. The connection I felt with Bella was undeniable: a mix of professional respect and a burgeoning personal interest I couldn't easily dismiss as a mere business strategy.
Dear God, maybe I am screwed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BELLA
Driving home, I felt hopeful.
It was a good meeting.Unexpectedly good, Bella.As I pulled out of the parking lot, I unrolled the windows of my sedan, letting the cool ocean breeze caress my face while I navigated the route to my apartment. The sun had set, and it was early evening, but the moment felt like a fresh start. Dad would be happy things were going so well. He’d be pleased that Cade and I had found common ground.
Maybe this could be the start of a new chapter for me.A better chapter. One with a whole lot less stress and worry.
I had a spring in my step as I moved up the sidewalk to my rundown place. Even that reality couldn’t bring me down because I wouldn’t have to stay there much longer thanks to my recent success with FanZone. A few more months, and I’d probably have enough money for a down payment on a sleek new townhouse in Palm Beach Gardens. No more triple locks that stuck every other day, no more ancient refrigerator with its relentless, droning hum, no more pleading with my useless landlord to fix a perpetually leaking toilet.
And no more bullshit.
Once inside, I headed straight for the bathroom, craving an escape from the day. I twisted the faucet, letting warm water cascade into the tub, the steam rising like a promise of peace.Each piece of clothing that hit the floor peeled away another layer of stress, another nagging worry, another tense knot on my shoulders. I grabbed a lavender-scented bath bomb from the counter, its fizzy hiss a small luxury as I tossed it into the water. My muscles unwound, the quiet wrapping around me like a blanket. No, this wasn’t the spa at the Four Seasons with its plush robes and ambient music, but it didn’t need to be. For once, the world could wait.
